


The 22nd of November

by starraya



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, It would have explained a lot to them, Starting to think maybe I should have given my counsellors and therapists my fanfics to read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starraya/pseuds/starraya
Summary: Her hands are sore from pulling the pages out of her diary and ripping them up into tiny pieces.





	The 22nd of November

The door swings open and Bernie runs out onto the roof, Fletch and Jasmine in tow. 

"Serena!"

She's slumped in a deckchair. Her eyes are closed. There is a empty bottle of wine at her feet. There are strips of shiny silver in her lap. The wind has scattered some of them on the floor. 

"No!"

- 

She presses her thumb and forefinger against a piece of paper paper.

Her hands are sore from pulling the pages out of her diary and ripping them up into tiny pieces. Ripping up the rest of 2017. All those days she doesn't need anymore. All those days she doesn't want anymore. 

She presses down on the 22nd of November and tears. 

- 

They stabilise Serena, inject her, hook her to a drip and Bernie waits at her bedside, holds her hand, fingers tracing patterns on Serena's skin that she hopes are  soothing if Serena can feel them through the fog of darkness she's in. Bernie knows she can't.

The hours drift by. 

Fletch and Morveen both offer to take Bernie's space so Bernie can take a break, stretch her legs, get some fresh air, get some sleep. Even Jasmine offers even though on the rooftop when Bernie was feeling for Serena's pulse and the girl had come close, Bernie had yelled at her to stay away from Serena. 

Bernie shakes her head at all of them, mumbles a few words - all the response she can muster. 

She has words she wants to tell Serena. Words that burn inside her chest. But they stick in her mouth, unable to pass the lump in in her throat. 

She starts to suffocate. 

In the early dawn hours, she takes the break. Smokes a cigarette in the crisp air and is torn. The minutes pass and half of her finds relief in them, wants them to slow down completely. Half of her is struck with guilt that she's away from Serena, that she's abandoned her.

She lasts seven minutes and crushes her cigarette against the bin.

Serena is on the floor when she returns to the ward.

"What the hell happened?"

Bernie crouches down next to Fletch and Morveen, sees the needle that she passes to a nurse. They are both breathing deeply, in shock.

"Little help please," Bernie snaps, when she carefully moves Serena back in the bed, even though she doesn't want their help, their care. Serena is the woman she loves and she should have never left her.

"She woke up when you were gone," Morveen explains, "she was disorientated. She became very distressed - "

"We had to give her a sedative," Fletch adds when Morveen struggles to blink back tears. "We had no choice."

"What did she say?" Bernie asks. She knows by the tone of her colleagues's voices that Serena shouted something, screamed something.

"She said . . . she said that . . ."

"Fletch?"

"She wanted to be dead."

- 

Bernie is there when Serena cries because she has woken up again. When she cries because she has woken up in a place where Elinor isn't. 

Bernie doesn't know what to do apart from hold Serena. She has no strength, no energy and she sinks into Bernie's arms limply. Sobs against her chest. 

Bernie holds her tight and smooths a hand against Serena's back, up and down. She murmurs "I know, I know" into Serena's hair over and over. 

She forces them to part after a while. Tells Serena softly that the Mental Health Team will be here shortly and asks if she'd like to get dressed. 

Serena shakes her head. Her tears dry up and she rests back against the pillow, her face blank, her eyes empty.

- 

Bernie punches the doctor. They have to hold her back. 

"You were back to kept her safe! You had a fucking duty of care!"

She leaps forward again, but the nurses clutch at her tighter.

They call the police. She's arrested for assault. 

She rages, and when she sees that no one wants to listen, rages inside instead. Spends all night with her anger festering like a infected wound. 

She will call a lawyer. She will file a lawsuit. She will get the hospital shut down.  

She doesn't do any of that, of course. 

When they release her, she runs. Without any direction or goal. She runs for hours. Runs until her body hurts and her mind buzzes grey like a old TV with no signal. 

She reaches a field of green, screams until she is hoarse. When she can no longer run she walks, when she can no longer walk, she collapses on a bench. 

She reaches down to her bag at her feet. Pulls out a notebook a third full with her messy scrawl. 

-

Bernie watches the sun peak in the sky, slips to the side. It is the warmest day of the year so far. Her clothes are stained with sweat and her hair is stuck to the back of her neck.

She presses her thumb and forefinger against a piece of paper.

Her hands are sore from pulling the pages out of her diary and ripping them up into tiny pieces. Ripping up the rest of 2017. All those days she doesn't need anymore. All those days she doesn't want anymore.

She presses down on the 22nd of November.

She tears.

**Author's Note:**

> So last month I was in hospital after an overdose and the girl next to me in A and E had also overdosed and she was shouting at the doctors and incredibly angry and I learnt that she'd done it multiple times. I learnt basically her own whole medical history and it was upsetting. 
> 
> On the ward, there was a woman who had also overdosed (I think or done some form of self-destructive behaviour). She was very distressed and sobbed uncontrollably and needed to be taken to another room.
> 
> During my time lying in bed, I thought up this idea.


End file.
